Classic Poem

How swift the merry months have sped
Since we together stood,
By happy inspiration led,
Amid the gay green wood!
How sweet to gather once again,
And taste, with sounding mirth,
With every sense as keen as then,
The beauty of the earth!

The freshness of the blooming fields,
The splendor of the sky,
Are prophecies which Summer yields
That God is ever nigh;
They tell us that in joyful mood
He made both land and sea;
That in such mood His children should
His fellow-workers be.

Then who can time for sighs afford?
Let all the children make
A joyful noise unto the Lord,
And sweetest comfort take.
And let us all in love unite
To make this fleeting day
A blessing that shall still be bright
When years have passed away.